DRUXY
by mamaduck1870
Summary: Ziva and Gibbs fic! Ziva and Gibbs have to suffer a mutual loss. But will they be able to get through it or will they each crumble? Est. Zibbs. Rated M for summary and non-character death-NOT a sex fic!


**Author's Note: Hi! So, this story is a little more serious than the ones I normally write-but once this idea entered my head I couldn't let it go. This story is complete and I really hope you like it! I tried super hard on this story. Also, I've included the link for the definition of the title I used and it is here:**

unused /2012/12/21/druxy/

**(If the link ^^ doesn't go through, I went to unused words . com and put it Druxy.)**

**Please review and let me know what you think! And thank you for reading!**

**Disclaimer: NCIS is NOT my property, nor do I claim for it to be.**

**Summary: Ziva and Gibbs hace to face loss. But this time, they have to face it together.**

**Rating: M (Serious life event-NOT a sexual fic)**

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**DRUXY-SOMETHING WHICH LOOKS GOOD ON THE OUTSIDE, BUT IS ACTUALLY ROTTEN INSIDE**

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In all honesty-she wasn't as worried as perhaps she should have been-given her situation. Hell, if anything she felt excited.

Ziva David was pregnant.

Perhaps the best way to tell this story-was to start from the beginning:

About three months ago Agent David had committed herself to occasionally seeing a man with a romantic inclination. It just so happened that the romantic arrangement was supposed to be a 'no strings attached' situation.

Oh, the man?

Jethro Gibbs.

How it officially started, neither one could exactly say. However-each party agreed to the mutual terms of not needing, nor requiring,-a relationship from the other. With Ziva on birth control-and Jethro wearing condoms every time-the risk of pregnancy was quite low.

Until you realize that Jethro wore condoms _almost_ every time. Occasionally the passion between them rose too furiously and too quickly-and a condom was the last thing on anyone's mind. It wasn't like they were being careless-Ziva was adamant about taking the pill.

So with birth control only doing so much-and when Ziva started to feel ill in the stomach-she got to thinking. It could've been the flu, but she had no other symptoms. Four home pregnancy tests later, she received her answer.

She was now a pregnant NCIS Special Agent.

And yet, thinking about for the weekend she kept it to herself before telling Gibbs, the thought of letting him know caused no fear or strain or even worry to course through her veins. Something in her knew that Jethro wouldn't leave her to raise the child on her own, even if she let him know that was what she wanted. At the moment she didn't exactly know what she wanted-but if there was one thing she was unyielding on-it was the fact that she would carry the child to term.

Deciding to wait until the end of this Monday-Ziva wondered how she would bring up the fact that she was with child up in conservation with Gibbs. Once DiNozzo and McGee had left for the night-Jethro stated-

"You seem off today."

His steady voice was thick in the empty room, and steady-almost like a train in that sense. Her response was getting to the point-and quickly at that-

"I have something to tell you."

She stood in front of her desk, coat on and bag in hand-ready to leave. Gibbs rose-and moved his stance to that of one where he's in front of her, as he inquired-

"What's up Ziver?"

"I am pregnant,"

The breath was stolen from his lungs for more than a moment-thought process gone from his mind-the statement that had just arrived in the air not what he was ever expecting to hear again in any fashion concerning him in any way.

Somewhere in his subconscious he knew he needed to respond-he just truly didn't know what to say.

But Ziva did-

"I am sure this is shocking to hear-and you should know I am not expecting you to take care of anything. I can handle this on my own. I just thou-"

"When?"

Her comment interrupted, she tried to process what he asked-

"About five weeks ago, though I am still a little un-certain about that. I haven't seen a doctor yet."

Not knowing what to do-Gibbs did what came naturally in that moment-he simply put his arms around Ziva carefully. Pulling her into his chest-he lets out a deep breath and tries to take in all of what she's told him. Jethro feels her small-yet capable-hands go around his back and her palms make fists of his jacket. She clings to him a little tighter than she normally would have-yet given that this was not a state of affairs she had ever been in before-she was allowed to hold onto him-and tightly at that.

"Gonna be there for you. Both of ya."

Gibbs' voice was re-assuring and Ziva was glad to have it in her ear.

She believed him too, she truly did.

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Two months came and went and Gibbs and Ziva had not told the team about the pregnancy yet. Ziva figured she had about another two weeks or so before she started to show, so she and Gibbs were going to plan a dinner at her apartment one night with all the team members and let them know that way.

As for Ziva and Gibbs, they hadn't discussed details of a relationship-at all.

So far, they had managed to keep all of the news from the team with what some would say remarkable ease. Then again, they had practice. After all-they had kept their mouths sealed about them seeing one another.

"Ziva!"

"What Tony?!"

The raised voice of her partner brought her out of her thinking daze-

"Looked like you were staring off into space. Ya okay there David?"

She smiled lightly-

"Of course Tony. I just get tired of hearing your stories about which random woman you slept with the night before. I have learned to tune it out."

McGee let his laughter fly as Tony just sat there and stared across his desk-mouth agape-at his partner-

"Well Ms. David-at least I'm not some kin-"

"I wouldn't recommend pissing her off DiNozzo-she's packing,"

Sounding deflated and admitting defeat-

"Yes Boss."

"Now, grab you gear! Dead body, One Step Park." Leaning over and grabbing his coffee off his desk, Gibbs merely locked eyes with Ziva for a moment-before heading to the elevator.

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With the body of a Naval Petty Officer joining Ducky and Palmer in Autopsy, evidence learning to love loud music with Abby, and possible killer scenarios being played out on the plasma in the bullpen-all seemed normal at NCIS. If you count finding a dead body in a park on a Wednesday normal, that is.

As the case was worked and witnesses were interviewed-throughout the course of the day, Ziva began to feel a little tense. Her stomach was in knots-it felt almost like she was having cramps if she was honest with herself-and she just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

But she had never been pregnant before, so she had no idea what was normal and what was not. Plus-the cramping wasn't constant, it would come and go in waves.

Deciding she was just nervous about telling the team the truth in a few days-she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on with her day.

With the team finally calling it a night, Ziva was the first to leave. Gathering her things and saying goodbye-she hopped onto the elevator, just to find herself joined in the conference room by Gibbs. Waiting a moment-he turned to her-

"In the mood for Chinese? Could pick it up on the way."

Ziva smiled a true smile and nodded-

"That sounds great. I will see if I can find a good movie on."

Gibbs smirked and once the elevator stopped, he walked her to her car, and then went back inside to get ready to leave.

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When Ziva didn't answer her cell the _fourth_ time he called her-his gut was screaming at him to get to her place-and _fast_.

Finding her car parked outside her place in normal condition did little to calm his mind. Entering her apartment-it was quiet and there was only one light on-not something Ziva would have done if things were fine-

"Ziva!"

Gibbs shouted, hoping to at least get a response from her as he was setting down the bag of food-and yet the only thing he heard in return was that of the echo that belonged to an empty and dark apartment.

"Ziva!"

Walking through the living room and kitchen-he heard a faint whimpering sound come from the back of her apartment. The rooms that way were the bedrooms and the bathroom-

The bathroom.

In a flash, Jethro was in front of the master bathroom door-and finding it closed was not a good sign. Especially if she was here by herself-why would she shut the door? Shut doors meant keeping something away from others who might stumble upon something potentially unpleasant.

Finding the door was un-locked-Jethro entered the room-and instantly felt his world cave in.

Blood.

Blood was _everywhere_. The sink, the toilet, **_all over _**the floor, even on a towel that was hanging on a bar on the wall had visible traces of that dangerous red substance.

Yet looking around the room-he could_ hear_ Ziva-but not_ see_ her. Another whimper came from behind him-and he closed the bathroom door behind himself-only to find Ziva-**his Ziver**-huddled in the fetal position in the corner.

Her light pink blouse seemed so un-feminine in this moment-coated with blood-and her pants were sticking to her thighs. He didn't have to be a genius to know why that was. Tears steadily streaming down her face-Gibbs went to her and picked her up-

"Ziver…Ziver look at me. We're going to the hospital,"

At his words she began to cry a little harder and burrowed her face into the crook where his neck met his shoulder-breathing in his natural scent-however-did have a slight calming touch on her.

"Shhh…it'll be alright."

Getting them both carefully outside and into his Charger-he drove like _she_ normally did to get her to the hospital.

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He supposed some would say it was because he was a Marine. Others would say it was just Gibbs being Gibbs. Either way-when he walked into that bathroom and found her like that-crying in the corner-obvious pain still coursing its way through her body and soul-the only thing on his mind was getting her somewhere else. Somewhere with help and people and medicine and bandages to stop the bleeding _and_ the pain.

It didn't _fully_ hit him like a ton of bricks that he may have lost another child of his until he checked her into the hospital and had to fill out her paperwork and medical history-of which he only knew a little.

Changing his position frequently from sitting to standing to pacing and back again-the thought crossed his mind to call Ducky-or anybody on the team.

But what would he say?

Would Ziva want them to know when they didn't know anything at the moment anyway?

Deciding to just play this one close to the vest-he picked up the pacing and sent a prayer to whatever was out there-that all of this would work out for the best for her.

What seemed like forever-but was actually only hours later-a doctor dressed in neutral green scrubs and white tennis shoes came out into the waiting room and told Gibbs the patient had been asking for him.

Gibbs was also informed that Ziva had lost the child she had been carrying-

Bewildered and shattered-

"What caused the miscarriage?"

His voice didn't sound like his own when it came out of his mouth. When the doctor had a look of apprehension hit his eyes-Gibbs knew there was nothing that this man was going to say in response he wanted to hear-

"Sometimes in cases like this one, we just don't know. She was about two and a half months along and the early stages of pregnancy are always risky. I am very sorry. If you'll follow me, she is supposed to be resting-but she's made two of my nurses' cry in her demands to see you."

At that-Gibbs had no choice but to smirk.

So he followed the good doctor through the painfully white doors of the hospital wing-to see his Ziver.

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Ziva had never looked smaller than she did in that moment-lying in the hospital bed, eyes swollen from tears, IV's in multiple places on both her arms, and machines beeping in tune with her body's natural rhythms. Natural rhythms that had started to return from the trauma that arose just before her arrival here.

Gibbs felt his heart seize in his chest and he took the seat in the chair that was almost as old as he was and made of an unabashedly horrible pattern of fabric beside his girl.

Both of his hands went to her and Gibbs brought them to his lips and kissed them oh so tenderly.

It was difficult to say what exactly made him speak in that moment-but he attempted-

"Made two nurses cry?"

The relief that coursed its way through his veins at her slight laugh made him feel ten years younger. Ziva nodded-it was true. She had needed to see this man-but they kept insisting she rest. Clearly, they didn't know her.

And now he was here-sitting beside her-holding her small hands in his large ones-neither quite knowing what to say-if anything at all. Whether it was a moment or an hour that passed before she spoke-Ziva couldn't tell. All she could focus on were his fingertips tracking her hands in attempt to calm and hold her, she supposed.

Her voice-out of emotion-

"I am sorry. So so sorry Jethro."

Her voice had never been so thick in her entire life. Not only did the words she throw into the air cause his head to snap to attention-it was also the way she spoke it-

Hanging on by a thread was a phrase that gave her too much strength in that particular moment.

Gibbs didn't know which scared him more, her breaking rule six, or sounding so lost and defeated. But he did know one thing-he wasn't having it. Moving his chair closer to her bed-he ran his time and sawdust warped hands up her arms-pulling her into his chest.

Not allowing her to do anything-but sit there in a hospital bed, tired, lost, heartbroken, unlike her usual self-and feel comforting arms around her. Comforting arms belonging to a man who had been there once before and believe it or not-knew the feelings and emotions that she was running with in this moment.

Putting his lips close to her ear, he mumbled softly-

"This is not your fault. Not your fault Ziver, no way,"

Tightening his grip around her small body a little more, his voice grew a small amount of purpose when he continued-

"Don't blame yourself. Don't do it, won't allow it."

Ziva could only manage to nod her head into his chest-and hope he could somehow manage to forgive her one day. Possibly even forgive herself one day.

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A week from that fateful night had arrived and left and sitting in the bullpen-Ziva was still lacking her normal spark behind her eyes. And Gibbs-though not normally having a spark with him on a day-to-day basis-was far from his usual self.

Tony and McGee had their suspicions and worries, Abby didn't know what to do but hang onto Burt whenever possible, and even Palmer began to ask questions to Ducky and Tony.

Yet-the team didn't bring anything up-no instead they trusted that Gibbs and Ziva knew what they were doing. And this early evening-after Team Gibbs had solved a particularly difficult case-Ziva was the first to leave. It appeared as though she literally couldn't wait, the elevator and then the car ultimately her goal, finishing paperwork in record time-

"Boss?"

Looking up from the case file David had just quite literally dropped on his desk-Gibbs rose his eyes to McGee, who had just spoken-

"Ziva seem a little off to you?"

Gibbs didn't know how to respond-sure, she seemed off to him. A week ago she'd-they'd-lost a child. Of course she would be off, so was he if he was being honest-

"No McGee. Just a hard case."

McGee glanced to Tony-and decided to let the conservation drop where it was-Gibbs didn't seem to be in a sharing mood about Ziva. Especially not lately.

Opening her case file-Gibbs found everything in order-as he knew it would be. Honestly-he didn't quite know why he'd opened it in the first place. Maybe he was anticipating some clue as to where she was in such a rush to get to, but then again-maybe not.

Rising from his seat and tossing his to-go style coffee cup in the trash nearby-he headed to grab another. Yet-it wasn't until he was in the elevator that his gut had a stunning indication of where Ziva could possibly be.

Twenty Five minutes later-sitting in the driver seat of his Charger-Gibbs put the already running car into Drive-and headed downtown.

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Patsy Cline roared through the speakers of Gilley's D.C. bar-located just about forty minutes from the Navy Yard-and about twenty five from Ziva's house. Sitting at the bar-her bourbon on the rocks still cold in her palm-she hadn't even taken a drink from this one.

This one being her fourth.

Ziva David could hold her alcohol-let there be no mis-understanding-yet she was far from drunk. She didn't honestly know what she wanted, something to take the edge off, she assumed-but drinking at the bar was doing extremely little to achieve that goal. Ziva didn't want to get drunk-and had no plan to do that-she did want to drown the emotion of worthlessness and disappointment that was searing its way through her body.

Lifting the glass up and slowly bringing it to her lips-

"Think it'll help, David?"

Her surprised expression on her face was more than enough to bolster his fact that finding her here-in this place of all places-was unlike her usual self-which made things more than just slightly dangerous. Lowering the now glistening glass to its natural home on a coaster on the well-built and often wiped down bar-Ziva glances sideways at him-

"No. But I think it will make me feel better…somehow."

Her words weren't slurred-her speech not impaired-her voice-though-

Rang a true note of sadness into the air between them.

Jethro could feel his chest literally tighten as her eyes quickly removed themselves from his-a sign that she didn't, or perhaps couldn't, talk about this. Especially with him. Although some could say-he was the _only_ person she could-or should-talk about this with.

Shifting his body from its place on the stool a few more inches to the right-he positioned himself closer to her, trying to ground her as he whispers in her ear-

"End of that bottle won't make you feel better."

"And who are you to talk?"

Her tone carried a hint of humor-underlined with a razor sharp point of conservation. He wasn't one to talk-hell if anything he should be convincing her to order another round-if past behavior of himself taught future behavior, that is.

But his past behavior had little to do with her in this moment-she deserved better-and would get better from him. He didn't want Ziva to do this to herself-not talk to him-spend her nights in bars-that wasn't what he ever wanted, or even foresaw for her. Running on the thin hope that getting her out of here would make her talk to him-his next mission, if you could call it that, was to get her home. Surely then-with just him around-she would let her walls slip _just enough_ so he could get her to open up. And not hold everything inside of herself until Ziva's only option was self-destruction-

"C'mon Ziver."

She didn't want him to be right-not again-she wanted to just sit here and pretend not to feel-but at the same time she was so damn tired of fighting. Before she knew it-Gibbs was standing behind her-his strong hands on her small shoulders-and she slowly nodded. Rising from the bar stool-she reaches inside her pocket to pay the tab-just to find that Gibbs has already paid the bill.

With both of his hands on the small of her back-he guides her through the heavy oak doors-and out to the parking lot where he would drive them both to her place. Something told Gibbs his chances increased-possibly going to her place would make her feel more relaxed-and relaxation could lead to letting down walls.

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Lowering her walls wasn't as easy as he'd hoped-in fact, it was harder than ever.

She didn't want to talk-and therefore she didn't-Ziva was one who once her mind was made up, it was made up. Yet for some reason-Gibbs had the fleeting hope that even if she didn't want to talk-she could at least let go of some of the emotional turmoil she had bottled inside of her.

Walking into the living room with two cups of coffee in her hands-

"You do not have to babysit me. I had no intention of getting drunk in that bar. I can take care of myself."

Accepting the cup she was offering-

"'Know that Ziver."

Ziva sat across the room from him-couldn't bear to be physically close to him right no-the ache in her chest let her know that it would be too much too soon. Especially after all she'd caused them to lose. Why couldn't he be the silent type about this? Gibbs was gruff and straight to the point-yet he was almost unbearably close to her about this. Every time she looked him in the eyes-even at the Navy Yard-it appeared as though he was scared she was going to break into a million pieces and fall to the floor around him.

Why couldn't he just believe her when she said she was fine?

The silence that seem to literally reverberate off the walls around them was eerie. Ziva wouldn't-couldn't-do this. She couldn't just sit here and try to slowly drink her coffee while knowing that he was waiting for her shattering point.

Quickly rising and almost slamming her coffee cup down on the glass table in the center of the room-the sound was harsh-and sharp-and caused Gibbs to look at her. Her new motive was to get out of that room and away from the silence. Swiftly making her way down the hall-she frantically walked into the main bathroom-turned on the light-and shut the door behind herself.

Bracing her hands on the porcelain sink, she lowered her head and closed her eyes. She had been so excited to carry a child-especially _his_ child-and then to have it ripped away from her so suddenly-this was a new battle that she had to face.

A new battle she had to win.

Arriving back in the present moment-she looks in the mirror-and that's when she almost loses it. Seeing herself in the always challenging and unforgiving ladies room light, it dawns on her-here-now-that she will never get that child back. Sure, she knew that deep in the back of her mind-but sometimes knowing something and realizing it are two different things-

"I lost a child."

Her voice-in pieces-and yet, by speaking that simple fact into existence, Ziva made herself in a sense own up to what had happened. That was something that no-one could make her do, not Gibbs or anyone else. She had to do that entirely on her own-and only once she had done that-did she finally, and without completely realizing it, crack the door to healing and all that the process held.

The second Ziva practically stormed out of the room-Jethro was on her six. Any outward response would've been okay with him-just as long as it was an _outward_ response-yell at him, throw things, break down into a puddle of tears-anything. As long as she wasn't going to continue down the path of bottled up emotions, Gibbs knew that he could help-how, he wasn't quite sure-and with some help, Ziva would get the healing she needed.

Once she was healing-Jethro would as well.

Standing outside of the tightly closed bathroom door, he didn't push-and wasn't about to. For a moment there he could've sworn he heard her say something-but if she did, it wasn't something that she had intended for him to hear anyway.

Tears standing tightly on the brim of her eyes-it was a wonder they didn't spill over and down her cheeks just by blinking-but this Gibbs only noticed after she open the bathroom door to exit.

It was obvious she wasn't planning on him to be standing right there-

"Ziver,"

His voice held a soft and understanding tone-one that was laced more than a few times over with concern and something she couldn't quite describe.

All of her training had told her not to do exactly what she was about to. Never show weakness-never break-play your cards close to the vest. All of these things she was going to willingly ignore right now-hell, maybe for the whole night.

Ziva had never had the kind of _ache_ she had in her very soul right now-and standing here, in the foyer of her own bathroom, did she feel the compacted hit of standing in the presence of a man who knew _that very_ ache.

Was she not allowed even a moment to not fight and fall in the arms of someone she trusted?

Ziva David sure as hell thought so.

Closing her eyes tightly-tears fall and her hands rise to shield her face from him. Beginning to lose her balance with standing upright-Jethro could see she was slipping-and stepped in to catch her in **every** way.

Her frame had never felt smaller in his arms in his life and her shoulders seemed so much slimmer in this moment-as if they had decreased in size due to the weight of all she had been carrying on them. The front of her face falls into the crook where his neck met his shoulder-and almost instantly Jethro could feel the moisture of her tears-both relieved and pained to know that she was trying to get this out of her system.

For years Jethro Gibbs had been horrible with crying women-that was no secret. So when it was his Ziver that was doing the crying-he was even more thrown off balance. Yet he thought he knew what he needed to do.

Feeling her body go slack against his chest-it occurs to Gibbs that having this extremely emotionally taxing moment in the hallway, was far from an ideal location. Shifting his weight to his right side-Jethro leans and puts his arm under her legs-picking her up in a princess-style carry. Turning on his heel-he heads down the hall to her bedroom and lies her down gently on top of the covers.

Opening the wooden chest at the foot of the bed-Gibbs selects a crocheted beige blanket and sets it at her feet-he has a feeling she'll want it later. Slipping off his shoes he arranges himself on the opposite side of her and no sooner had he gotten there-was she in his arms again-needing him again.

Setting about a course of comforting circles on her back-no words or tones came from his mouth-Jethro was partially afraid he'd say the wrong thing. So it was in the almost absent-minded hopes that saying nothing might help the situation that he kept his mouth shut.

Not being able to tell how much time had passed-eventually Ziva's shoulders stopped shuddering and her breathing did even out-and the dampness on his shirt was beginning to dry. Pulling her face out of the spot on his chest she'd been claiming-

"Will we get through this Jethro? I do not think I could handle you hating me forever because of this."

His head spun-he, hate her-for this? What was she thinking?

This wasn't her fault-not in the slightest-though Gibbs supposed he could see why she Ziva would feel that way. It was her responsibility to carry the child-perform all the essential duties through nine months of changes and ups and down-not an easy thing to do. However-this cruel twist of fate was not her FAULT. No, this was a situation in which there was no fault to be had, and situations like these were always the most difficult to deal with.

With his arms still loosely around her skinny frame-he pulled her back into his chest. Not allowing her to mis-understand him-his lips are on her ear when-

"Could never hate you. Ever,"

Ziva slightly shook-a small sob coming from her body at his words. She wanted what he said to be the truth-oh so badly-

"Wasn't anything you could've done. This is not your fault,"

Jethro had one more thing to say and when he felt Ziva's hands form balls of fists of his shirt grasped tightly-he hoped this would leave no doubt left in her mind-

"And you're still my girl."

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Three months later found Ziva and Jethro still together-only now the team knew and were supportive. Tony did take the longest to come around-but eventually he gave his 'approval'.

Ziva and Gibbs kept the mis-carriage between themselves-they didn't even tell Ducky that small jewel of information. Some nights plagued Ziva with nightmares-waking up shaking-in tears, looking for Jethro. He was always there-be it on the phone or right there in bed beside her-calming her down and reminding her he wasn't going anywhere.

Jethro Gibbs was here for the long run. Eventually they would each-and together-be able to move from the darkness of this situation that made its vivid and frustrating appearance in their lives. Learning that one could lean on the other-that was the trick.

Ziva and Gibbs would make damn sure neither one of them would ever be alone in the darkness again.

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**Reviews are loved!**


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